


Touch-up

by Anonymous



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Makeup, One Shot, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Post-Canon, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Korra’s attempt at glamming up for the evening misfires, Asami is there with the touch-up.
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71
Collections: Anonymous





	Touch-up

* * *

"Come on, Korra, we're going to be late!" Asami called out, casting one more agitated glance at the old grandfather clock in the foyer. Ten minutes to the top of the hour, and it was a fifteen-minute drive downtown, _even with_ Asami behind the wheel.

" _Just a minute_ ," the voice of the Avatar shouted back, reverberating as it echoed through the halls of Sato Manor.

Asami sighed. "You said that ten minutes ago! They're going to give our table away!" That was probably an exaggeration - bold was the maître d' who would cancel a reservation in Avatar Korra's name - but Asami didn't want to risk it. Not with Chef Lee retiring in a few months and moving back to the Earth Kingdom, taking his near-elemental mastery of chicken, beef, mutton, and pork back with him.

" _Korra_!"

Asami stood still for several seconds, listening for a response. And, a few heartbeats later, a response came. Just less in words and more in... _inarticulate growling_.

With one final glance at the clock, Asami quickly began making her way upstairs to the source of the noise, the heels of her stilettos _clicking_ sharply with every hurried step. A half-minute later she had made her way to the bedroom she shared with Korra, which was still littered with work taken home from Future Industries and fashion choices that hadn't made the cut tonight.

"Korra...?" Asami called out again, a note of concern creeping into her voice.

"I just need a minute," Korra replied, and this time, Asami could precisely locate her voice, which was coming from the spacious bathroom attached to their room. "It's, uh... occupied."

That was a lie, Asami could fairly easily discern, since the door to the bathroom was ajar. And Korra _never_ left the bathroom door open, which was a major improvement over some of Asami's previous partners. And so Asami took a few steps closer to the bathroom, peering through the crack to see Korra standing at the sink, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed.

Asami hesitated for just a moment, before rasping her knuckles gently on the bathroom door. The door was so evenly-balanced on its hinges that it swung open at her gentle touch, almost silently. Korra didn't acknowledge her presence, though, which sent a pang of concern through Asami.

Korra was dressed for the night out, in what was unquestionably Asami's favorite dress. It was a modest blue number, designed by a Northern Water Tribe artisan who'd moved to Republic City some years ago, sleek and modern while still paying homage to tradition. It suited Korra perfectly, even if she grumbled about how flimsy it felt every time it came out of the closet, and Asami had to make a conscious effort not to press herself against Korra right now and just...

"...Korra, sweetheart, what's wrong?"

She laid one hand on the Avatar's bare shoulder, causing Korra to shrug her off. Korra's head was still bowed, downcast into the porcelain sink, her face veiled by her hair. Various brushes and palettes lay scattered across the marble countertop, and more than one terrycloth lay crumpled up in a corner.

Asami slid the strap of her handbag off her shoulder, placing it gently on the tiled floor of their bathroom. This wasn't her girlfriend's usual rushed, harried, leaving-everything-to-the-last-minute habit, _no_ , but something else. "Korra, talk to me, please..."

With the reluctance of a woman walking to her execution, Korra straightened herself up off the sink, and turned to face Asami.

Despite everything, Asami let slip a laugh.

Korra had obviously tried to apply her own makeup. And the results were, unfortunately, rather predictable. Her eyelids were some garish shade of blue, there were purple clouds above her eyes, and streaks of mascara underneath them. Her lips were colored a positively bloody red, and the heavy splotches of blush on her cheeks gave her a vague resemblance to a painted doll.

Korra immediately hunched back over the sink, and Asami immediately realized that she had hurt her beloved.

"I look like friggin’ Rohan when he got into your makeup kit," Korra growled, her hand reaching for yet another towel. And, if she was being honest, Asami couldn't entirely argue with that. There was a reason why she or Opal or even Jinora touched Korra up before big events.

So she slid up behind her girlfriend, resting her hand on Korra's shoulder again. And this time, thank the Spirits, she wasn't shrugged off. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh," Asami apologized, genuinely meaning every word of it. As momentarily amusing as the sight had been, she never wanted to hurt Korra like that. "You just caught me by surprise." She let her hand drift a little, gently massaging the extraordinary-tense muscles between Korra's neck and shoulder. "You just don't usually wear makeup, do you?" she asked, rhetorically.

"I _know._ It's just..." Korra's fingers curled around a brush, and for a second it looked like she was going to splinter it into pieces. But she let it fall, and just slapped the countertop, the fleshy impact causing Asami to flinch. Asami took a few steps back, seating herself uncomfortably on the lid of the toilet seat, giving the Avatar room.

"I just... wanted to act like an actual _adult_ for once, you know, is that so hard?" Korra demanded, her voice a mix of anger and sadness. "No, because I'm a fucking _kid_ who looks like a clown in an expensive dress." Another groan. "I’ve stabbed myself in the eye about twenty times trying to do my waterline."

Korra waterbent a sphere of water out of the sink, splashing it against her face with enough force to catch Asami in the spray. Asami winced as Korra reshaped the orb, pulling out jets of water that blasted the cosmetics from her face with the gentleness of an industrial pressure washer.

"It takes a _lot_ of practice, Korra," Asami said, once Korra went back to rubbing her face with a towel. "I know I make it look easy, but I've been doing this every single day for most of my life. I can't imagine the White Lotus spent a lot of time teaching you how to blend eyeshadow. Or did Master Tenzin actually have classes on how to curl your lashes?" It was hard to tell with Korra's back turned to her, but Asami hoped her words were having an effect, and that that little gasp was a choked laugh and not a sob. "And besides, we have pretty different skin tones, so it's going to be extra-challenging for you if you're borrowing my products."

There was a long silence, broken only by the gentle humming of an overhead fan, the sound of water dripping off of Korra’s chin.

“Did you see that story they wrote about us in the _Cranefish Observer_? Like a week or two ago?”

Asami shook her head, before remembering that Korra wasn’t looking at her. “No,” she said, softly. She’d long ago forced herself to ignore what was written about herself in the tabloids and gossip rags, for the sake of her sanity, if nothing else. But then, she’d grown up in the public eye, and had long ago learned to tune it out like so much white noise. Korra, though, had been raised in near-seclusion, in places where everyone knew everybody, and still struggled with the celebrity that had been thrust upon her.

“What did they write?” Asami asked, knowing Korra wanted to tell her but dreading the answer all the same.

“It was about that night you took me out to the firebending opera. The one about… about Kyoshi and Rangi.”

“And you wore that beautiful dress from the Fire Nation just for that occasion,” Asami supplied. “Which, really, you need to wear more often because you looked absolutely-”

“They said I looked like a boy dressing up in his sister’s clothes,” Korra shot back, her voice echoing off the marble tiling. “‘ _A juvenile tomboy that was an embarrassing distraction to the elegance of Miss Sato_ ’.” She slapped the countertop. “And, _fuck_ , I know I’m not going to win Miss Republic City anytime soon, but... b-but…”

“ _Korra_ …” Asami breathed her name as she slid up behind her girlfriend, nuzzling her face into Korra’s back, wrapping her arms around her waist.

She hated them in that moment, whoever had written and edited and published whatever piece Korra had read. People forgot - or perhaps just didn’t care - that Avatar Korra was as human as anyone else on this earth, a woman with feelings and an ego and a sense of self-worth that could be wounded just like any other. Whose memories of a wonderful evening could be ruined by a single snide comment from people she’d never met. Because whether they were lionizing or demonizing her, nobody really cared to see the flesh-and-blood Korra beneath the legend.

“Korra, they’re idiots. Most of the time they’re just printing the most sensationalist take they can come up with. I know Tenzin would just tell you to ignore them, and while that’s the right thing to do, I also know it’s not that easy.” And even Master Tenzin, leader of the Air Nomads and detached from all worldly possessions, was not as indifferent to what was being said about him as he would have his disciples believe. “So I’m just going to tell you that they’re _wrong_. I spent that evening with a strong, beautiful, _incredibly sexy_ woman, and I felt so impossibly lucky that she took me home that night and tore all my clothes off.”

Asami paused for a moment. The setup to the joke was incredibly obvious - Korra would ask, in mock-horror, who this other woman was, and then Asami would give her a teasing flick, and then they would kiss, and then…

But Korra didn’t swing at the softball, just sniffled, loudly. And so Asami took a step back, reluctantly relinquishing her hold on her girlfriend, giving her a bit of space.

Korra finally turned around to face Asami, leaning against the sink. "I just... you go to so much effort to give us these glamorous nights out together, and then I show up looking like such an embarrassment when you deserve-"

" _Korra_!" Asami cut her beloved off before she could spiral any further. She closed the distance between them, and took Korra's hands in her own, squeezing with all her might. "You are _never_ an embarrassment to me. Do you understand that?"

Korra nodded her head, begrudgingly, but didn't meet Asami's eyes.

"Can you say that, please?" Asami asked, her thumbs running over Korra's hands. "I want you to say that you know you're not embarrassing me."

"Asami, I-"

" _Please_ , Korra," Asami asked, with an intensity that forced the Avatar to meet her gaze. She needed this, too. "Please say it."

And again, Korra nodded, returning the squeeze through Asami's hands. "I know," she finally answered, swallowing loudly. "I know... I'm not embarrassing you."

Asami leaned forward, and planted a kiss on Korra's lips. "Thank you, Korra," she said, even knowing her girlfriend didn’t entirely believe her own words. But that was a longer war. "And I love you. Just the way you are. I don’t care what the fashion critics or _The Cranefish Observer_ or anyone else thinks you should look like, because I fell in love with _you_ just the way you are. If you want to learn more about makeup I’d be happy to show you, but don’t for a _second_ think I want you to change who you are just because of a bunch of snobs in the society pages.”

She exhaled loudly, having worked herself up a bit more than she’d planned to.

Korra blinked, those brilliant blue eyes shimmering before Asami. "Can you..." her voice sounded wet, her throat tight. "Can you say that again?"

Asami wrapped her arms around Korra's neck, knowing exactly what Korra wanted repeated. "I love you." She kissed Korra. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you..."

They stayed that way for several minutes, Asami wrapped around Korra, Korra holding her tight, her mind emptying of everything except Asami's words, lost in Asami's touch.

Their reservation at Lee's was already long forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, reviews, criticism, and all other manner of feedback are appreciated.


End file.
